


Mi Ritrovai per una Selva Oscura

by esmerod



Category: The Dragon Prince (Cartoon)
Genre: Aaravos Being a Little Shit (The Dragon Prince), Aaravos is the devil, Aaravos is very excitable, Afterlife, Coda, Dante's Inferno References, Episode Tag, Episode: s01e03, Guilt, M/M, Minor Harrow/Viren (The Dragon Prince), Missing Scene, Mostly Canon Compliant, Post-Episode AU: s03e09, Post-Season/Series 03, Power Play, Pre-Slash, Underworld, What happened to Harrow, onesided Viren/Harrow
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-27
Updated: 2020-02-11
Packaged: 2021-02-26 02:21:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 5,557
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21985798
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/esmerod/pseuds/esmerod
Summary: Post season 3 finale. After Viren falls to his death, he finds himself in Aaravos' mysterious prison dimension. Is it hell? Or is it just a convoluted fever dream? Who knows.But what's for certain is that Aaravos is there to guide – and maybe manipulate – him on his journey.
Relationships: Aaravos/Viren (The Dragon Prince), Harrow/Viren (The Dragon Prince)
Comments: 15
Kudos: 88





	1. Tag! You're it!

**Author's Note:**

> Nel mezzo del cammin di nostra vita  
> mi ritrovai per una selva oscura  
> ché la diritta via era smarrita.
> 
> (La Divina Commedia - Inferno)
> 
> When halfway through the journey of our life  
> I found that I was in a gloomy wood,  
> because the path which led aright was lost.

Viren fell. He saw how prince Callum grew wings and felt a notion of scandalized revulsion before the more rational part of his brain reminded him that he was still falling. And, as the prince's arms closed around the meddling elf girl and the distance between him and them grew, he realised he wasn't going to make it. He would die.

So, Viren screamed. He screamed for Aaravos, he screamed for help, he screamed for his children. But most of all, he screamed for himself.  
  
And then he died.  
  
He was pretty sure it was instantaneous, but it was hard to tell... in retrospect.  
  
Viren blinked. He was sure there wasn't supposed to be an 'in retrospect', but then, he had never been a particularly religious man. Those who wielded the power of life and death had the tendency of not being all that impressed by deities, for what were they but more powerful mages?

Viren blinked some more into the light which had him squint. He tried to shield his eyes with his hand, and once again wondered how this was possible. He turned his hand and examined his unblemished skin. Not a scratch, and not even an indication of any broken bones. It was quite the miracle.  
  
Someone cleared their throat. "So, you're awake."  
  
Aaravos. Of course, it was Aaravos. Viren had to suppress a chuckle. So, the bastard had saved him, after all. He dragged a hand over his face but still couldn't quite wipe off the manic grin.  
  
He sat up and to his immense surprise found himself in Aaravos' chambers. He looked around, while Aaravos studied him as he studied their surroundings. 

"How did I get here?" Viren had to admit he didn't feel quite as elated as before, to be completely honest, a vague feeling of dread was beginning to spread in his chest. 

“You tell me,” Aaravos retorted, always faithful to his enigmatic non-answers.

Viren snorted and got up. He crosses the room, studied the shelves full of books – all the spines inscribed in elven letters – checked the fireplace and even threw a quite look out the window. He was indeed in Aaravos’ place, and from this side of the mirror it looked even more impressive than from the other. Finally, he turned back towards Aaravos.

“The last thing I remember was falling. I should be dead, by all means.” He ran a hand through his hair. Admitting his failure like this put him in an awkward position and he really didn't like it.

“Then you must be.”  
“Please don’t joke about it,” Viren retorted pointedly, he really wasn't in the mood for Aaravos' nonsense. But there was a sinister smile tugging at the corners of the elf's lips. He regarded Viren intently. “I would never joke about something like that. And who can really say what is real here and what isn’t.” He gestured towards the door. “Would you like to get a tour through my humble abode?”

Viren nodded but couldn’t deny that he found Aaravos insinuation quite unsettling. Was he dead, after all? Was this some weird version of the afterlife his own brain had concocted? Part of him wanted to deny the thought vehemently, but the other… the other couldn't let go of that glint in Aaravos' eyes and the perceived notion of a double entendre. Was he dead?

“What's on your mind? You seem troubled,” Aaravos asked while he walked a few paces ahead of him, always the picture-perfect image of mysterious sublimity.

Viren sighed and wondered if he was really that transparent. They had left the library and were following a corridor with several ornate doors. They were closed, and the more rational part of Viren’s brain whispered that he should be using the, probably unique, chance to learn more about the mirror realm, but instead he was agonising over one small facetious remark. He sighed again. “I’m wondering whether I might have died and ended up in some kind of netherworld that only poses as something familiar.”

Aaravos chuckled. “What would that make me then?”

"It's deceitful master, obviously," Viren deadpanned. 

“You wound me,” Maybe-Aaravos said and with a flair for theatrics placed a hand over his heart, before he winked and pushed one of the doors open. Behind it a circular room was revealed that contained seven doors – eight with the one they had just come through.

Viren raised an eyebrow. “What is this supposed to be? I thought you were going to give me a tour?”

“Oh, I am. But this place is quite wilful and changeable. It accommodates the person it holds, feeds of their memories and shapes what’s behind the doors accordingly. So, for a long time it has only been me, which means I was intimately familiar with each room's contents and nightmares, but with you here now… with new memories … it’s going to be quite the tour for me as well.”

"Great," Viren muttered to himself, louder he said, "You're enjoying this, aren't you?"

"Tremendously," Aaravos answered with glee. "But you should really see it as a compliment and appreciation of your company. Nothing has changed here in forever and now, for the first time, I don't know what's coming. It's very exciting." He rubbed his hands.

Viren grimaced. "Glad to be of service," he said and really didn't mean it.

Aaravos just chuckled some more and gestured towards one of the doors. "I always considered this door to be the most self-reflective and… informative."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Viren asked, frowning, but still grabbed for the doorknob. The door swung open and behind it a little dark-skinned boy was waiting. He grinned up at Viren, then yelled, "Tag! You're it! Catch me if you can!"


	2. The Prince and the Pauper

The boy ran away and Viren could only stare after him, completely dumbfounded. "That was…" he stuttered.  
  
Aaravos nodded. "I assume it's someone you know. We should follow him, after all you have been tagged." He grinned and made a sweeping 'after you' gesture towards the opened door. Viren still felt stunned, but eventually nodded to himself and stepped through it to follow the boy.

On the other side, the scene changed. It looked as if they were outside, with blue skies hanging above them and birds twittering from the tree branches, all of it framed by the sturdy walls of the Katolis castle courtyard. Viren's eyes widened and he turned towards Aaravos, who only shook his head. "Only an illusion, I'm afraid. But watch," he pointed towards the little boy who was running around the courtyard, playing catch with another boy, "your little friend is over there."

Viren said nothing, his gaze now glued to the two cavorting boys.

 _"Viren,"_ the dark-skinned boy exclaimed, _"you're cheating again."_  
The other boy shook his head fervently. _"I'm not! I'm just faster than you."  
__"No, you're not faster than me! You're slow, slow like a snail!"_  
_"I'm not a snail, you're a snail!"  
_And like this, they did a few more rounds, running, laughing and romping around.

"You were cheating," Aaravos whispered conspiratorially next to his ear. Viren just rolled his eyes.  
"I had to, otherwise I would never have stood a chance against Harrow."

"Ah," Aaravos' gaze returned to the dark-skinned boy with newly-found interest, "your late king. I wasn't aware your acquaintance reached that far back."

Viren only huffed.  
  
"But tell me," the elf put his hand on Viren's arm, who observed the movement with a suspicious frown, "how did that boy end up as your kingdom's High Mage?" He pointed to Viren's skinny young counterfeit, locked in a wrestling match with young Harrow.  
Viren didn't answer immediately. He knew Aaravos was referring to his younger self's poor garb. It struck quite the stark contrast with the prince's fine tunic and reminded him in a startlingly painful way why he had always struggled so much with the high council and the other Katolian nobles.  
  
"My father was the stable master. It was former High Mage Felice who discovered my potential and took me under his wing. Thanks to his patronage I was able to rise in rank and eventually become High Mage myself."

"I see. So, this the story of the prince and the pauper?"  
Viren snorted. "We weren't _that_ poor."  
"Maybe not. But I still don't see former High Mage Felice around anywhere. It's all about them, isn't it?"

And with that the scene changed and they were suddenly indoor. Viren startled, but then recognized their new surroundings as Harrow's bedroom. The now all grown-up but still somewhat younger king was pacing. Another Viren was also about, standing rigidly straight next to the window and holding his staff. Neither spectre reacted in any way to the two spectators, instead they seemed to be in the middle of a rather heated argument.

 _"I just think that marrying a fallen general's widow isn't the wisest decision,"_ the other Viren said.  
Harrow stopped _. "It's been over two years since his death. That's a respectable period of mourning, don't you think?"_ He started pacing again and spectre Viren rolled his eyes. Real Viren followed suit. Harrow's priorities when it came to anything but ruling had often been a bit askew.  
  
_"That's not the point, my king,"_ the spectre said and it was obvious that he was trying to make his voice sound patient and understanding. _"But Sarai also has a son. Marrying her would make the child part of the royal family and as such allow him a claim to the throne."  
_

Harrow shrugged. _"And? I don't care. Callum is a wonderful boy, so let him inherit the throne. I'm sure he'd make a good king."_ And almost like an afterthought he added, _"Besides, he only becomes king, should Sarai and I have no children of our own."_

For the blink of an eye spectre Viren's face contorted into a more than displeased grimace before he schooled his expression and retorted coolly, _"there are more than enough young and willing maidens in Katolis. I'm sure you could find one that wasn't married before."_

 _"Nonsense, my friend."_ Now Harrow grinned and put a hand on spectre Viren's shoulder. _"If that's your main concern, then let me tell you that I don't care whether she was married of not. I love Sarai and I want to be with her… If she'll have me, of course."_

The real Viren sighed and started massaging the bridge of his nose. Oh yes, he remembered that talk. He still stood by his argument from back then, but he also had to admit that maybe not everything he'd said was completely based on logic or political reasoning. Sarai and he, they'd always been at odds with each other. It wasn't like they didn't get along, quite the contrary actually, there had been moments when they'd shared some hilarious jokes at Harrow's expense, but they were somehow driven by opposing forces and that showed.

Aaravos was looking at him, while Harrow was looking at spectre Viren.  
_"I never took you for such a traditionalist. Especially considering where you come from,"_ Harrow said and now his voice sounded much more calculating.

"Oh, that one knows where to hit," Aaravos commented. He sounded intrigued and studied the looming figure of the king, who seemed to dwarf his advisor despite his lack in actual height.

The real Viren raised his hand imperiously, clearly uncomfortable with how the situation had developed. "That's enough! I want to leave now."  
He turned towards the door, but it didn't budge when he tried to pull it open.

"I'm afraid that's not how it works," Aaravos said, still openly marvelling at the ongoing discussion between the two spectres. "Is there maybe another, unnamed reason why you didn't want him to marry?"

"Oh, shut up. You're fabricating a story where there isn't one. Harrow and I were friends and that's it."

"Of course, you were," Aaravos said in the most condescending and smug tone and really looked like the cat that had just got the cream. Viren hated him with a passion at that very moment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Leave a comment ♥


	3. For Queen and Country

The scene changed again. Only this time they found themselves in Viren's chambers with an even older Harrow and Viren. A spear was laid out on the table between them and the real Viren realized at once what was going on. He took a deep breath. At least this scene wasn't going to reveal anything embarrassing. He felt vaguely relieved by that, but still couldn't help shifting from one foot to the other when he felt Aaravos' expectant stare bore into him. The elf was still smirking.

"You know this already. I told you that story, so we don't need to look at it."  
  
A look of confusion passed Aaravos' features before his face brightened and his gaze turned towards the table with the two men behind it. "So, this is it? The moment when the path to Avizandum's destruction was laid?" He studied the spear and the other items on the table, then he turned back to Viren and bowed slightly with his hand over his heart. "I'm honoured to be made privy to such a momentum event. Thank you, Viren."

Viren could feel heat creep up into his cheeks. Well, this wasn't the reaction he'd expected, still he indicated a small nod. A little voice at the back of his head whispered that he didn't seem to have much of a choice when it came to what exactly Aaravos was made privy to, but here they were, so he observed how his agitated double explained his plan to Harrow.

_"On that fateful day, so many years ago, Queen Sarai saved my life, but minutes later, after Thunder struck, there was nothing I could do to save hers. I watched as her spirit passed from the world."_

Oh yes, he had spun that tale to convince Harrow of the necessity to attack Thunder. While essentially true, it left out a few details, but nobody needed to know that. His gaze drifted to the jar that contained the late queen's dying breath. Catching it had been rather difficult. Aaravos followed the direction of his look and sent him a knowing smile, the bastard.

With an exaggerated huff Viren turned back to the two spectres. The discussion was turning towards an interesting point.  
_"You see, I knew about a very ancient, powerful spell. However, it requires something impossibly rare, the horn of a unicorn. I searched for years and I failed, but a few days ago, my daughter Claudia succeeded where I could not. She captured a unicorn and brought me its horn."_ Spectre Viren revealed the horn with quite a bit of flair, and the real Viren had to shake his head at himself. That really had been unnecessarily dramatic, but then, he had maybe expected a slightly different reaction from the king.

He regarded Harrow whose eyes had widened in shock. _"Viren, what have you done?"_ Fear, maybe even a bit of revulsion showed on the king's face. A self-deprecation smile started spreading on Viren's lips. Oh yes, these were the expressions he was very familiar with. Harrow, in his later years, had become so hesitant and unnecessarily cautious of dark magic. It had always kind of annoyed him, especially when Harrow became patronizing.

"Unicorns can only be approached by virgins," Aaravos whispered thoughtfully. "But I assume that ship has sailed for you, that's why you needed your daughter to do it." 

Viren nodded.  
  
"It's quite the ingenious idea, but he doesn't understand it at all, does he?" Aaravos went on. "He doesn't see how much you put into getting the ingredients, or how much finding the incantation cost you."

Viren nodded again, a tiny puzzled frown forming on his forehead. It was weird hearing the words he'd always wanted from Harrow to come out of the elf's mouth. Appreciation, respect, maybe even a bit of awe. He wasn't really used to it, and it made him suspicious.

Meanwhile, spectre Viren, confronted with the king's predictable distrust, was gearing up for the next act. He'd always expected Harrow to be less than pleased, so he'd come prepared. _"Tell me you don't want justice. Tell me she wasn't your world."_ Playing the king's grief might be considered a bit of a low blow, but it worked like a charm. Harrow's face contorted into sadness, reminded of the loss of his wife and how much he blamed the monster responsible for it. It spelled destruction for the King of the Dragons; and Viren… he'd always been especially proud of that feat indeed.

Aaravos mimicked some applause. "I have to say I'm impressed. You played him like a fiddle."

"I didn't play him," Viren enunciated every word. They observed how the spectre of Harrow pricked his finger with a needle and let the drop of blood fall onto the unicorn's horn.  
  
"Oh please, we both know he would never have done anything so risky without your nudge. He had grown complacent. But just accepting what you have breeds stagnation, you should always aim for more."

Viren really didn't know if the elf was serious about this creed or just subtly mocking him, again. He regarded Aaravos and tried to get an inkling of the truth by reading his face, but the elf's attention was now glued to the magic ritual taking place on the table. The purple light from the enchantment was reflected in Aaravos' dark eyes while he observed the whole procedure with a mesmerized expression. "Stunning," he mumbled as the now black horn merged with the spear. "A true masterstroke. I couldn't have done it better."

Viren could feel himself blush again. "You're exaggerating," he muttered

"Oh no, this is art, my friend. And I can't express how happy I am to have witnessed it. All of the different components that just came together like clockwork. The spear, the horn, and, of course, the blood… I really have to say I'm most impressed by the blood. How you swindled the king into supplying the impetus for the enchantment was just the icing on the cake.

"What?" Viren burst out, all flustered self-importance gone again. "I didn't swindle the king! How dare you?!"

Aaravos raised his hands in a placating manner. "Well, maybe not intentionally. But you must have been aware that by using his blood and powering the spell with his resentment, you'd also make him the target for a very likely act of retribution. Or are you telling me, clever advisor that you are, that this thought never occurred to you?"

Viren sputtered, his mouth opening with the clear intention of spewing a thousand insults and explanations at the smug elf, but nothing came out. He stood there, completely blindsided, and couldn’t explain what he had been thinking. Finally, he pressed out, "I didn't set him up to be killed."

Aaravos gave him a mild smile, and as if he was talking to a child, he explained, "No, but you didn't what to kill Avizandum to avenge the queen, did you? Because, let's be honest, her demise and her poor sons having to grow up without a mother didn't really bother you all that much." 

Viren wanted to interrupt and stop this vile slander, but the elf just put his graceful, four-fingered hand on his shoulder and started guiding him towards the door.

"So, you couldn't provide the blood yourself. You also couldn't provide the horn, and the spear wasn’t yours either, but you still made it work," he continued. "And you did it just to see if it was possible. If it was possible for dark magic to be stronger than an archdragon, the most powerful creature in the world, actually."

"That's not true", Viren retorted weakly while Aaravos guided him through the door and the scene changed again. They both knew he was lying.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Leave a comment ♥


	4. Iniquity

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long wait. RL has been busy and additionally I've kinda fallen into otome game hell^^'

They found themselves on the spiral staircase, following Viren's double again, only this time he was carrying a basket in his hands and climbing the stairs with intent steps. The real Viren groaned. He wasn't getting any break here.  
  
"What's in the basket?" Aaravos asked, eyeing the slightly wiggling vessel curiously.  
  
"You'll find out soon enough," Viren sighed, but the offhand remark only seemed to have the effect of making the elf's eyes beam brighter with excited anticipation while he practically pranced after the spectre who had now reached the imposing double doors of Harrow's rooms. He exchanged a few words with the crown guard and Viren noticed that their faces seemed weirdly undefined and vague. It was rather irritating, after all, he remembered clearly that he'd talked to his son, trying to convey the necessity of what he intended to do.  
  
His double entered and they followed. Harrow was sitting on his bed, studying a picture which he put away when he saw Viren.  
  
 _"I've given thought to what you said,"_ spectre Viren announced.  
  
 _"Oh, have you? Then why have you returned with that abomination_?" Harrow pointed to the basket in Viren's hands but got up nonetheless. He walked over to his sword. It was a thinly veiled threat and the real Viren pitied his counterfeit for the useless attempt that was going to follow. With the distance to the events he had now, he realised he should have noticed the futility of his plan right away. But he'd tried... he'd tried because he'd wanted to save Harrow so much. Aaravos could tease all he wanted, but Viren had always tried to do what was best for Harrow. Even if the other man didn't always agree with his choice of method.  
  
 _"Yes, I've brought the Soulfang. I have a proposal. Let me explain,"_ the spectre said.  
  
Harrow seemed unimpressed and pointedly continued sharpening the sword in his hands. _"Go on."_ He wasn't even looking at Viren.  
  
_"You are my king, but you are also my friend."_  
  
These were the words that had essentially doomed his plan. The real Viren sighed. Normally, Harrow hadn't minded his informality, had even encouraged it when they were younger, but in this case he'd totally misread the room. He realised that now.  
  
"This is going to be so interesting," Aaravos whispered gleefully and nudged Viren as if the latter wasn't fully aware of how this was going to turn out. Viren shielded his eyes and Aaravos shot him a fascinated look.  
  
 _"Your friend?"_ Harrow asked and sounded dangerously cutting here.  
 _"Yes,"_ the spectre replied, _"Right now, I do not come to you as my king. I think of you as my brother."_  
  
Harrow regarded his advisor with disdain and the real Viren felt his chest tightening.

 _"I see the problem now.”_ Harrow’s tone was scathing _, “It's that you believe you are special, better than everyone else, above the laws of this kingdom."  
_  
Viren’s face contorted into a pained grimace. It had never been true, or at least not entirely. Of course, he thought himself cleverer than these sycophants that populated the court and only got their titles because they had been lucky enough to be born into the right families, but he’d never -ever! - considered himself to be above Harrow. The king had always been his point of guidance, the north pole towards which the compass of his loyalties was aligned.

"He has quite the cruel streak, doesn't he," Aaravos commented. "There you are, bearing your heart to him, and he, once again, doesn't appreciate it at all."  
  
Viren shook his head. He really didn't like reliving all of this. It was painful. His gaze travelled to the door, but even without testing it, he knew it was pointless. He couldn’t escape the past.  
  
Meanwhile, his counterfeit tried to rectify his error. _“That's not what I was trying to say. Please, listen._ ” He sounded desperate.  
  
“You beg quite beautifully, I have to say,” Aaravos whispered while standing far too close to the real Viren, his hand around the mage’s upper arm. “You should do it more.”  
  
“Oh, shut up,” Viren huffed and shook himself free. He wasn’t in the mood for this kind of games because the scene unfolding in front of them was rushing towards a rather dramatic climax.

 _“Assassins are coming to murder me tonight, and you're wasting what precious time I have left!”  
“No, Harrow…. I… Stop!”_ spectre Viren tried to interject, but Harrow’s steadfast rejection had turned their discussion into a confrontation that was now spinning out of control faster and faster.

 _“How about, ‘No, Your Highness.’ In fact, let's try, ‘Yes, Your Highness’ for a change.”_ It was a deliberately cruel remark, and yes, Harrow had had a cruel streak, but it hadn’t changed anything… well, it hadn’t changed anything until the moment when it’d changed everything…

 _“Oh, are you sure you wouldn't prefer ‘Your Royal Highness’? ‘Your Esteemed Inimitable Majesty,’ perhaps?”_ spectre Viren threw back. It wasn’t their first fight, far from it. Unfortunately, it had turned out to be their last. Real Viren pinched the bridge of his nose. It was hard looking at what he knew was going to follow.

 _“I have tolerated your arrogance for too long, maybe even encouraged it. But if today is my last day as king, you will know your place!”_ Harrow blustered.  
 _“And where exactly is that place?”_  
 _“Right here. On your knees.”_

The threat hung between them, incredibly heavy, as Harrow pointed to the floor. Spectre Viren swallowed and hesitated. He studied his king’s expression intently before he sunk to his knees subserviently and lowered his gaze.

Aaravos was beside himself. “My my, I never took you for the submissive type,” he taunted gleefully, examining the form of the kneeling spectre with unveiled interest. “Shut up,” Viren retorted again but without any bite. He was deeply ashamed that the elf got to witness this moment of humiliation.

 _“You are a servant of the kingdom of Katolis,”_ Harrow continued as he regarded the kneeling Viren full of regal indignation, about to pass a dooming sentence. _“You are a servant,”_ he repeated.

“I would never treat your devotion so unkindly,” Aaravos threw in. "Do you like being domineered or is just him you like?"  
Viren sputtered in shocked embarrassment but Aaravos just continued, "I have to admit he does strike quite the imposing figure though. A mighty ruler in full armour putting you in your place… and that bird of his on his shoulder. It's understandable you were attracted to him."

"I wasn't…" Viren shook his head and couldn't hide his blush, "I wasn't attracted to him."

Aaravos just smiled and said nothing more.

 _"Harrow, you don't understand. I'm trying to help… to serve you,"_ the kneeling Viren pleaded und grabbed for the basket. _"I brought the Soulfang, so you can trade places with me. Please, I just want you to live."_

The king shook his head. _"You don't understand, do you?"_ He sounded disappointed.

 _"Oh, I do!"_ And now the spectre of Viren got up with a sudden motion, taking the wiggling basket with him _. "You have some twisted idea in your head that you deserve Xadia's retaliation for killing the King of the Dragons and that your death will even the score, so that the kingdoms can be at peace once more. But that's not it!"_ He was getting louder, _"Xadia will never stop and never forgive. Your death would only be another steppingstone to their ultimate victory, and you can't let that happen! You're the king, you have a responsibility!"_

Even observing the scene from a distance didn't make it entirely clear to Viren when during this tirade he'd taken the lid off the basket. But there his double stood, shouting, with a hissing two-headed snake wrapped around his arm. It was a menacing sight.

"Oh my, this is getting better and better," Aaravos' smile was bordering on manic now.

Harrow recoiled in alarm, but it was too late. The snake sprang, burying its fangs in the king's protectively raised hand. He gasped as the colour began to drain from his skin and Viren moved forward to lower his prone form to the bed. The Soulfang's second head was dashing from side to side aimlessly, obviously trying to get a hold of something too. So Viren took a deep breath and rolled up a sleeve. He'd always known what he'd come here for, so no reason to be nervous now.

He'd let it bite him and trade places with his king… His exposed forearm was almost in reach of the deadly fangs…

And then, the damned bird ruined everything!

Pip flew at Viren's spectre, screeching, with his claws out, obviously trying to protect Harrow. Viren automatically shielded his eyes and stumbled backwards. That was when the second head struck. It buried its fangs in Pip's wing, rendering the bird paralysed immediately.

Viren's spectre screamed in terror, but it was too late, the deed done, the souls exchanged.

 _"Oh no, no…"_ the spectre muttered desperately, _"that can't be. Harrow? Harrow? Can you hear me?"_  
He started shaking the lifeless form of the king, and the picture started to fade.

The real Viren had closed his eyes and slowly opened them again to find himself back in the aisle. Aaravos was standing next to him, his expression more neutral now. He was rubbing his chin. "That was quite the show," he said. "So, you accidentally killed him."

Viren winced. "I didn't kill him, I tried to switch bodies with him. I just… I didn't account for the bird." The words sounded hollow, even to him. They started walking again.

"Oh, I'm not judging. Things like that happen to the best of us. But I assume that the exchange human-animal didn't render the desired results."

They stepped through the still open door back into the circular room.

Viren sighed. "The bird in his body was practically incapable of movement, let alone articulation. And Harrow… well, let's say that bird didn't like me before and even less so afterwards."

Aaravos nodded. He looked sympathetic. "Sometimes it can't be helped."  
  
Viren snorted. "That's it? It can't be helped? What's that supposed to mean? And what was the purpose of all this anyway?" Viren gestured wildly. "Making me go through all these painful memories… is this some kind of sick game for you?" He had balled his hands to fists.  
  
Aaravos raised an eyebrow. A small smile was back playing at the corners of his lips. "A game? Oh no. I'm not doing any of this. It's this place, I told you." He pointed towards the door they'd just walked through. It had fallen shut behind them, but that wasn't the point. Instead some engraved letters were now adorning it. They read: INIQUITY

"Behind that door lies your guilt. You regret what happened with your king and it haunts you. That's why this is his realm now. But as you can see," he made a sweeping gesture towards the other doors, "there's more."

Viren shuddered and muttered, "wonderful." But his shoulders slackened.

Aaravos chuckled in response. "Oh, don't be afraid. Nothing behind these doors is real. The illusions can only hurt you if you let them." With that he placed a hand on Viren's shoulder and started to guide him back into the direction of the library. Halfway back there, Viren looked up. "What about you? Are you real?"

Aaravos threw him an enigmatic look. "I'm very real, I assure you. And I can hurt you just as much as you desire."

Viren scrunched his nose. "You wish."

"Just give it time, we have forever," he said with a smile that was far too wide and promised nothing good. "Because when you kneel to me, we'll both enjoy it, tremendously."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Leave a comment ♥


	5. Epilogue

Viren woke with a start and groaned. What was going on? He rubbed his forehead.  
Then he saw Claudia, eyes all black and hair far too white for her days. He gulped, the memories starting to return and fade at the same time.

"Somehow, I.. I survived the fall?" he asked, secretly afraid of the answer.

"No," she hesitated, "you didn't." Then she got up and came over, gently placing a hand on his face as if he was some kind of spooked animal.

Realization struck him and his eyes widened. This couldn't be right, Claudia had brought him back? That was extremely advanced for someone so young. Viren himself had only ever tried necromancy on smaller animals, the biggest being a cat. Going for more just seemed far too… dangerous. He gasped.

"But… you're ok now," Claudia said, her face graced by a bittersweet expression. Viren didn't want to imagine how much this must have cost her. Almost testingly he ran his hands over his body, checking for injuries and broken bones, but all seemed fine, until…

"Where is…?", "Your creepy caterpillar friend?" she finished his question and chuckled unamusedly.  
  
"Two days ago, it climbed up that wall, and spun itself… into that." She pointed to a corner of their cave where the glowing cocoon was hanging. It was almost pulsating with magic and light. Viren regarded it with unease. The silhouette of Aaravos was already outlined, and even though he didn't know if what he'd experienced on the other side had been real, he still feared he'd somehow granted the devil access to their world. And he wasn't sure he was looking forward to what' he'd bring...

The End

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading ♥ This could be continued, I guess. After all, there are still quite a few unopened doors left... but for the moment I'll leave t at that.
> 
> Let me know what you think and leave a comment!


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